We all go a little mad sometimes.

I grew up watching horror movies. In fact, my first injury involving stitches as a child had to do with the terrifying sight of Chucky (I'm still a bit suspicious of dolls, their creepy glistening eyes make them seem somehow alive ::shutter::). His cackling laugh, so frightening to me, sent me running down the hallway, resulting in me somehow cutting my hand. 

This took place during the summer, and I had to spend most of it with my hand inside a plastic bag, enabling me to swim in the pool with my cousins and not feel left out.

Setting those dramatic memories aside, the summer always puts me in the mood for a good horror flick, and Alfred Hitchcock's Projects are the perfect way to satiate the need for a good scream.